Love, Sex, and Other Domestics
by lynne z
Summary: Scenes from the life of a biological metacrisis and his companion. A follow up to Being Human.
1. After

**A/N: **this will hopefully be a series of one shots revolving around the 10th Doctor duplicate and Rose and the life maybe they could lead. They may or may not be in chronological order. This first one immediately follows my first Doctor Who story _Being Human_

After...

He can't feel his legs. And he doesn't give one bloody hell about it. Rose goes with him as he rolls to his back, her leg thrown across him and her pelvis molds against his hip. They both gasp out a breath they didn't realize they were holding and he feels her lips, then the scratch of her teeth against his shoulder.

"God, that was..." she says but then lets out a sigh.

He cranes his neck to lip her forehead. His fingers absently stroke along her arm, while she lays her palm flat against his lone heartbeat. He stares up at her white ceiling feeling better than he ever can remember and tries to find the words she can't.

"Brilliant?" he offers. "Phe_nom_enal?"

"Shut it," Rose says and pokes his side.

She looks up at him with a bright, cheeky Rose Tyler smile. Its the most beautiful thing he's ever seen and there's no way 900 years would ever be enough time with her. All that time on the TARDIS seems like a waste, but he knows he can only think that now because of this human life, because time is no longer something to be manipulated but cherished.

"This may be my Donna bit coming out, but _two years _together on the TARDIS and we never..." he says. "How did we never?"

"Have to ask yourself that one," Rose says.

"Well, I can be a bit thick sometimes."

"I'll say."

"Oi!"

He squeezes her side and tickles her. She cackles and wrestles against him as he shifts her back beneath him.

"You're gonna wake my mum and then you'll be sorry!"

He pulls back and he can only imagine the look on his face as she begins to laugh even more. Her body shakes with the effort and he can feel each contraction of her muscles against his own.

"Blimely. That is horrifying," he says.

"Right, so let's not wake up the whole house."

Her hands cup his neck and then his lips are crashing into hers and he's nudging her hips with his. He knows the few imaginings of her he ever allowed himself are nothing compared to the actual feel and salty sweet taste of her skin.

"Doctor?"

"Hmmm"

He kisses down her chin to the hollow of her throat just because he can. His lips travel to the space between her breasts and her fingers slide against his scalp.

"Maybe we should talk about getting a place of our own, yeah?"

His head shoots up.

"Really?"

She shrugs and looks suddenly shy. It seems suddenly so fast, but still not fast enough with this new finite lifetime he's been given.

"Well, yeah. We could just rent a flat or look for something more permanent," she says. "It would give us more privacy..."

"Are we talking about getting a mortgage?" he asks with a grin.

Her lips twist trying not to smile and he knows she remembers their last conversation about domestics just as well as he does.

"Well, seeing as how you're stuck with me now."

He presses against her and kisses her nose.

"Ah, but that's not so bad."


	2. The Christmas Party

**A/N:** This one kind of got away from me and didn't go anywhere near where I was expecting. And is completely out of season, but hopefully it works. Also only edited by me. Don't own. Blah, blah, blah.

The Christmas Party

Nearly every single person employed by Torchwood is stuffed into the Tyler Mansion for their annual Christmas Party. Jackie and Pete mingle like pros. Though the Doctor can see, while Jackie gets a laugh out of all the attention, she doesn't need it like her original parallel earth counterpart seemed to. Rose is at the bar with her old teammate Jaime. She glows in a gold cocktail dress and heels that could take out an eye. Her hair is up, braided, and twisted at the back of her head. She's giggling at whatever Jaime has said and her smile is bright. It makes him smirk even if he doesn't care for the way Jaime leans close to her or how easily his fingers could _accidentally _slip from his knee to hers.

He watches everything from his corner near the window, where Rose left him to make her rounds. He keeps his hands busy with a glass of ridiculously expensive scotch and the two little silver bands in his pocket he keeps meaning to give to Rose. _Just looking for the right moment, _he keeps telling himself. People pass by him with strange smiles and little nods. Some even make small talk.

It's not that he doesn't like mingling and he's actually quite good at it, but so many Torchwood agents in one place still makes him all squirmy. Yes, he has worked there now for nearly nine months along with Rose and her father, but he still sees the sideways glances he gets when the Tyler's aren't looking. That look that clearly says, _I won't ask questions because I've been ordered not to, but there's something wrong with you. _Of course, most anyone with any pull in the institute at least has a vague idea of what and who he is, but there's still this one question nagging at him. What if there was that war driven desperation and the brain, blood, and guts of a half Time Lord meta-crisis started to look like a viable option for a way to end it?

Well, he can't have that, not with this finite body. He thinks it's one reason why Pete suggested they look for a home in Cardiff if they were so keen on moving out of the mansion. He's certain it wasn't just the promotion he offered Rose in taking over the much smaller Cardiff branch, which is where they've spent the last four or so months. He smiles a little, remembering he and Rose talking about it the night it was suggested while snuggled in her bed. All warm and naked and sated as she drew absent patterns on his chest.

_"You know what this would mean, right?" she asked through a mischievous grin. "I'd be your boss."_

_He furrowed his brow and she her smiled widened. _

_"No..."_

_"Yep. Dad said you could be my technologies and development consultant, which means you'd be my subordinate."_

_"You know, I don't do very well with authority figures."_

_"Oh, really?"_

_She crawled on top of him then, wriggling against him and pinning his arms down-_

"What you doing in a corner by yourself?"

He clears his throat and finds Jackie in front of him, hands on her hips. He shakes the images of her naked daughter out of his mind and puts on his best grin.

"Oh, well, you know. Just surveying the land. Making sure there's no robotic Santas or killer trees. Come to think of it, I don't have the best track record with Christmas."

"Don't I know it," Jackie mutters. "Well, standing off by yourself is just making you look even weirder to everyone. At least go keep Rose company. And I'd look out for that Jaime bloke if I was you. Had his eye on her since she first got here. Now go on."

She pushes at his back and he can't not do what she says, because he's a little scared of her if he's honest. A fear that has only intensified with his new found, _intimate_, knowledge of her daughter.

He goes through the crowd, chit-chatting with a couple ladies from the Research and Development Department he had been working in before the move. He interacts and shows interests, but still keeps his eyes on Rose and _Jaime_. He supposes he is a handsome bloke, all blonde and blue eyed and muscel-y. But he doubts good old Jaime could fashion a sonic screwdriver out of spare wreckage parts from various space crafts and gadgets, all while stuck on _Earth_ of all places.

He excuses himself from his ex-co-workers and heads to the bar. Rose is talking through her smile, hands making grand gestures as she recounts some story to Jaime. The Doctor slips in behind her and places a hand on her back.

"Hey," she says smiling up at him. "Decided to leave your corner?"

"Yeah, well, your mum kinda chased me out," he says. "Hello Jaime. Having fun?"

Jaime smiles, tightly, but so does the Doctor as they shake hands.

"Fun enough," Jaime replies.

"Oh, I was just telling Jaime about that meteor thing we were looking into last month," Rose says.

"She says you nearly blew up the lab trying to get the piece of rock open," Jaime says a little too triumphantly.

"The lab was never," he starts and then looks pointedly at Rose. "The lab was never in danger of blowing up."

"Tell that to poor Gary's eyebrows," Rose says.

"I warned him not to stand so close," the Doctor says. "Anyway, if you want stories, how about some of our dear Miss Tyler? She is one of the most jeopardy prone people I have ever met. Almost worse than me and that's saying-"

"Oi!" Rose says, playfully elbowing his stomach. "Wouldn't have been in those situations if it wasn't for you."

"Now you sound like your mother."

She shoots him a glare that clearly indicates he'll pay for that later in the most exquisite way. He grins because he can't wait. And then everything goes black.

"What the bloody hell did you do now?" he hears Jackie yell and he's quite certain the question is directed at him.

He rounds his arm around Rose and squeezes her waist, just as the generators kick in. Everyone is stock still, holding their breath in the dim light because it's Torchwood and things are never simple. Their brains run through cyber men invasions, alien parasites, rifts in time and space that can suck you in whole and spit something worse out.

The Doctor watches an arm guard approach Pete and then whisper in his ear. Pete doubles over with huff and then laughs with relief.

"Just a blown fuse box," Pete announces. "Looks like we're having too much fun."

The crowd laughs a little at themselves the Doctor supposes and little a Pete.

"A technician's on his way-"

"I could take a look," the Doctor offers.

Pete gives a little smile and nod before turning back to his guests, encouraging them to drink the liqueur before it gets warm. The Doctor turns to Rose.

"So, want to check out a fuse box?" He asks her, letting his eyebrows jump with excitement.

She squints her eyes at him, but then gives him that _you're totally mad, but I love you for it _smile.

"Yeah, sure, why not?"

He takes her hand and pulls her along, giving a dismissive wave to Jaime. He vaguely registers her saying _see you later _to her would be suitor, but then she's beside him hugging his arm as they walk.

The basement is toward the back of the mansion, through the kitchen and down a set of wooden stairs painted pale blue. The Doctor leads the way down and goes straight to the fuse box as he pulls out his make-shift sonic screwdriver. It's not as sleek or pretty as his old one and it's a wee bit glitchy, but still gets the job done. Mostly.

He pulls out his specs because he actually kind of _needs_ them now and pops open the fuse box. From the corner of his eye, he sees Rose lean against the brick wall to watch him as he pulls out fuses and wires, tinkering and scanning.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Rose asks.

"Oh, bite your tongue," he says, eyes never leaving his work. "Almost there."

He stuffs all the parts back in the box and with a flip of a switch the house comes to life. He grins at Rose, triumphant, and watches as her lips quirk upwards.

"Mission accomplished. Now back to the party, then?" Rose says, already turning toward the stairs.

"Just a minute," he says.

He pulls her back by her waist and swivels her around. He holds her at arm's length, his eyes looking her up and down. There is something both painful and wonderful rising in his chest at how strong and beautiful, but ultimately fragile she -_ they _are.

"You are brilliant Rose Tyler. Absolutely gorgeous."

She dusts off imaginary lint from his shoulder and then winds her arms around his neck.

"Not looking so bad yourself."

He pulls her impossibly close against him. His lips are on hers, her tongue in his mouth. She shifts against him, brushing against his pelvis. Her eyes pop open and he looks a bit guilty at his semi erect state.

"Are you trying to shag me in my parent's basement?"

"No. Well..."

"Doctor, I will go almost anywhere with you, but this place is cold and damp and there's an open door right up there."

"Right."

"Come on, let's go back up to the party for a bit and then we can finish this at home."

"Wait. Wait, wait. I..."

"What's wrong?"

His hand goes to his pocket and he fingers the little silver bands. It seems like too much and not enough. And everything's happening so fast and its wonderful and terrifying and so simple but so hard.

"I've been meaning to give you something for a couple months."

He pulls out the rings and then let's them lay against his palm to show her. He watches Rose's eyes flash up at him, all thrilled and panicked, but then they shoot back down to the rings. They look like simple wedding bands, except for the design along each band.

"What are these symbols?" She asks.

"They're Gallifrean. They...well you'd equate it to a blessing. A, uh, marriage blessing. It says, roughly, _may you travel through all of time and space always together._"

She blinks. He doesn't know what to make of her scrunched brow and the shininess in her eyes.

"Are you proposing?"

He sighs and gives a little shrug. Uncertainty creeps up his spine because what if this is too much, too soon? What if a part of her is still waiting for the _other_ Doctor to come sweep her off her feet?

"I don't care if we have a piece of paper that says it. Half of it would be a lie anyway. Or if we have any ceremony that tells everyone your my wife, well, I wouldn't mind Jaime knowing," he says, pausing at the roll of her eyes. "I just, you once promised me forever. I'd like to offer you the same."

He stares down at her wishing she would just say _something_. But she doesn't. Instead she fists his jacket and then his mouth is crashing against hers. His whole body jars and he nearly drops the rings before clutching them in his fist. She steps into him and he shuffles back. It's a continuous dance until he's backed into a far corner below the stairs. She presses against him, wriggles, and he moans into her mouth. He heaves a sigh and pulls back.

"I thought you were opposed to shagging in the basement."

"Changed my mind."

She lunges for his mouth again, but he stops her and grasps her upper arms with his hands.

"Hold that thought. There's one other part of this. If you want. I'd like to tell you something. Something no one else can ever know. Not Jackie. No one. Ever."

She gives the slightest of nods and then he leans down. His rough cheek brushes the smoothness of hers. His nose fondles the shell of her ear and then his lips. Then he says it. She pulls back, mouth parted as she stares up at him.

"Was that?"

"My name. Means so much more than any paper I could sign."

She blinks, her eyes wet, but smiling. She hides her face in this chest for a moment, but when she looks back up she is grinning.

"Can I have my ring now?"

He gives her a slow smile. The one he knows is a little arrogant, but still genuine all at the same time.

"Oh, yes."

He puts his own on first, on his left middle finger, and then slips her ring on her left middle finger.

"Isn't it supposed to go on this one?" Rose asks, wiggling her ring finger.

"I know I'm part human now, but I still can't completely buy into all your si- varied traditions, so, this was my compromise," he says and then takes in her best Jackie Tyler stare, which makes his neck go stiff. "Granted that's okay with you?"

She looks down at the ring and makes him squirm, almost quite literarily. But then she looks back up at him and she's grinning.

"It's perfect."

She grabs his hand and he can feel the newly added metal mold to her skin as she squeezes. She tugs and turns toward the stairs. She up a step and a half when she notices he's not following.

"So, we're not shagging in the basement, then?" He asks.

"This deserves so much more than that, don't you think?"

He looks up at Rose Tyler. She is powerful and beautiful and half the time doesn't know it. And she is his, but he's hers too. He nods and lets her lead them back upstairs to say their goodbyes.


	3. Him

**A/N: **backtracking a bit. Takes place three months after being dropped at the beach. So a couple months after the end of Being Human

Him

He hates that look on Rose's face. It's a look that clearly says _he _wouldn't do this_. _

"That isn't what this about," she says.

"Oh, it's what this is always about."

He snatches his suit jacket and storms out of the house. Its petulant he knows, but he stomps down the gravel road anyway, away from the mansion. Away from her and the disappointment oozing out of her.

She acts like _he_ would be better at all of this, even though the truth is _he_ has the privilege of staying on the pedestal because she's never actually been in a relationship with _him_. Even though she technically is, for all intents and purposes, and it's not like he isn't acting like _he_ would. Hell, he's acting better than _he_ would. Talking about _feelings _and his past. Okay, so some questions he still dodges, but he's trying. More than he has with anyone and more than his full Time Lord counterpart ever would have allowed himself to.

So he makes one decision that doesn't mesh with the image she has of him. Though a part of her has to know _he_ would have done the same and yet he's the one who gets yelled at. It's rubbish.

_"But what if it had gone off?"_

_"But it didn't."_

_"But you didn't know that. You put the whole building in jeopardy."_

_"Why can't you just trust me? You used to trust me."_

Oh, but of course he's _dangerous. _Has to be looked after. He wasn't dropped off with a lover, but a babysitter who fucks him because he looks like _him. _

"I'm no more dangerous than you and you bloody well know it," he yells up at the sky. "You just had to say that, didn't you? Put that little bit of doubt in her head so she'd still pine over you."

He kicks an iron gate at the edge of the estate with a growl and then doubles over. He grits his teeth and supports himself on the gate. The pain radiates from the arch of his foot up his shin. And he knows his counterpart wasn't being malicious, not really. Knows he was saying whatever he could to get her to stay put.

"You are such a coward. Always were when it came to this."

He isn't sure anymore which _he_ he's talking to. He grips the gate with both hands, leaning his head against it. Sometimes he hates his counterpart so much he can taste it like blood from a cracked lip. And other times, like when Rose is beneath him, legs wrapped around him, eyes seeing nothing but him, he is so profoundly grateful.

He pushes away from the gate and walks, slightly limping for the first few seconds. He walks and walks. He isn't sure for how long, but he knows (hopes) it's long enough so Rose will have gone to bed. He retraces his steps and makes his way back into the Tyler mansion.

He could go to the guest room, but finds himself hovering in the doorway of her darkened bedroom. She's curled in a ball on her side of the bed in what looks like one of his shirts with only a few buttons actually buttoned. He's not sure if she's actually asleep or not. Her breathing doesn't seem quite even enough, but either way she doesn't show signs of movement.

He cautiously comes fully into the room and quietly strips. He steps into a pair of TARDIS blue pajama bottoms and then just stares at the bed. He finally sits on the opposite side, his back to her and his feet still on the floor.

A couple beats pass and then the bed shifts. He stiffens, prepared for another fight he's really not up for and has no solution for. The other him will always be out there, hovering around them even with a universe between them. But then he feels her behind him and then her arms snake under his until her hands grip his shoulders in a backwards hug. Her face nuzzles where his neck and shoulder meet.

"Surprised you didn't go to the guest room," she says.

"Yeah, well. I sleep better here. With you."

He feels her nod and then her lips brush his neck.

"Me too."

She lets out a shaky sigh and he feels all the tension pool around them. He taps his fingers against the mattress, not sure what to make of her sudden affection. He doesn't know what to make of half the things she does and say, or even more the things she doesn't.

"Do you love me?" He asks before he can stop himself. "Or just the idea of _him_?"

She lets out a laugh that it is hollow and more of a huff. He feels her hair tickle his skin as she shakes her head.

"Mum's right. You're still just a daft alien."

"Rose, I'm serious. I need to know. It's like you're always measuring me against him. Ticking things off on this mental list of who the Doctor is in your head. _He_ would have done the same thing I did today and you know it."

"Yeah. I do. That's the problem."

"What?"

The sigh she lets out is thick and he feels her shudder as she sucks in air. He turns his head over his shoulder trying to see her face. When she speaks there's a near crack in her voice.

"If something had gone wrong, he'd just regenerate and move on. You...you'd just be gone."

Oh, he is daft and thick. _Thick, thick, thick. _All these stupid human emotions and misdirection. _And why is it so hard just to say what we mean?_ He shifts and removes her arms as he swivels around. She wraps her arms around his middle and he hugs her to him.

"Rose, I'm sorry. So sorry."

"And I do love you, you know. But you're human. You have to be more careful."

His hands rub up and down her back. He burrows his nose against her hair and plants kisses there. He'll never tire of that fruity scent that always there or the silkiness of her hair against his skin.

"I am who I am. You can't expect me to just sit in a lab all day. Just like I can't ask that of you. As much as I may want to."

"I know, but, I just worry. It's like you forget your part human now."

"Oh, love, believe me when I say this body doesn't let me."

"What if I lose you again?"

He cups her face and looks down at her. He kisses her forehead, nose, and then mouth.

"I just got you. I have no intention of going anywhere."

She blinks and then nods. He shifts them both and then lies back with her molded against his side.

"I don't mean to make you feel like I'm comparing you to him. I can't help but think about him sometimes out there. Alone."

He swallows and holds her tighter. Her finger pets his sternum and he isn't sure if its affection or misplaced desire for the him that will never know her like this. He doesn't want _him _to and the thought of sharing this, even with some form of himself, makes his stomach ache.

"If, hypothetically, if he came back. Told you he made a mistake. That he loved you. Would you go back with him?"

"He won't."

"Yeah, but if he did?"

"Even if he did, he'd wouldn't...he'd still keep me at arm's length, wouldn't he? Never really be _with _me."

His hand wraps around the one she has resting on his chest. She looks up and he feels the pressure of her fingers against his.

"Probably. Would hurt too much otherwise."

"But _you_ will. Because of that little bit of human, yeah?"

"I could barely resist you as full Time Lord. Now, like this. I'm doomed. Completely at your mercy, Rose Tyler."

She smiles for the first time all day. It's small and maybe still a little sad, but it's there and amused.

"I think I might like you like that. At my mercy."

"Believe me, I am. Always."


	4. Scars

**A/N: **this one takes place about a year and half after my fic Being Human. Also this does venture into some M territory

Scars

Sometimes when she sleeps, he counts her scars. There's a jagged one, about an inch long, on her upper arm that he knows happened in the years they were separated. There's a small one just at her hairline that he's pretty sure was there before, but easily hidden by her hair. A matching set on her knees, one on the bottom of her right foot, and an obvious scrape on her left elbow he assumes is from a childhood tumble.

He catalogues them. He hypothesizes about how she got them, but he doesn't ask.

/

It's after eleven pm when he gets to the hospital. His tie is long since discarded and he was in such a rush he didn't even bother to grab his jacket. His jaw is set and when he sees Jake and Pete in the hallway his teeth clench. Jake steps toward him, mouth open, head shaking with silent apologies. Before he gets a word out, the Doctor fists Jake's shirt and has him up against wall.

"What the hell happen? You were supposed to watch out for her? Where were you?"

The questions rush out if him, while Pete's fingers dig into his arm. Jake stares at him in a way that clearly says he can still very much be The Oncoming Storm. All he can think of is the little kiss he barely registered as she left for the weevil run with Jake. He was so caught up in the translation he had almost cracked, that he only muttered a _see you at home. _

"We...we got separated. Just for a minute and I couldn't get..."

"Let him go, Doctor. She's going to be fine. Just came out of surgery."

Pete pulls him to the opposite wall and then waves off the security and nurses gathering around them. Pete holds him there, explaining how Jackie's in with her now, while they get a room ready for her. He keeps saying _she's all right; she's going to be all right. _The Doctor stops fighting and slumps into a plastic chair. He leans forward and buries his face in hands.

_She's all right. She's all right. She's all right. _

"What the bleeding hell is going on out here?" He hears Jackie holler. "Oh."

A beat later he feels Jackie beside him. Then her arm is around his back and her free hand squeezes his bicep.

"It's all right, love. She'll be all right. Dr. Harper said. Just take some time is all," Jackie says, her voice clogged from her since dried tears.

He feels her head on his shoulder while she makes circles against his back.

/

Rose is pale and small in the hospital bed with fresh stitches above her left eyebrow. The left side of her face is a slew of yellows and purples. Her shoulder is wrapped in ice to ease the inflammation from where it was dislocated. And while he can't see it, he's very aware of the healing stab wound that nicked her liver.

He sits with his elbow on the edge of her bed, chin in his palm. He counts: upper arm, hairline, foot, knees, elbow, brow, side, shoulder. _Upper arm, hairline, foot, knees, elbow, brow, side, shoulder. _

/

A few days later he's behind her, a hand on her hip, as he follows her upstairs to their bedroom. She walks stiffly and he imagines she can feel the pull on her stitches with each movement. Once there, she eases on to her back, on top of the covers, and still in the grey yoga pants and T-shirt he'd brought for her that morning at the hospital.

He slips her flip-flops off and tosses them to the floor. He sits on the edge and places her bare feet in his lap. His fingers and thumb knead the boney flesh, circling gently up, down, side to side. He just barely swipes his thumb along the scar on the bottom of her foot and feels her flinch. He immediately looks up for her eyes.

"Tickles," she says.

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

He looks down at the scar again. It's such an odd place for one.

"How _did_ you get this?"

"Oh, uh, I guess I was about thirteen. Mum had gotten enough money so me and Mickey could go on this beach trip with some kids from school. I went out for a swim and when I came out there was this trail of blood behind me. Must've stepped on a rock or bottle or something. Didn't even feel it happen."

"I bet Jackie was livid."

"You don't know the half of it."

"I don't know, she was rather terrifying the first time I brought you home from the TARDIS," he says with a lopsided grin. "So, I guess we'll need to invest in some water shoes if we ever take a beach vacation, then."

She shrugs a little and fingers the hem of her shirt.

"Never have cared much for the beach since then."

His smile fades and then he slips her feet back on the bed, muttering how she should rest. He leaves her and goes to put on the kettle.

/

He's inside her. _Finally. _All these days wasted healing with only kisses and overly careful hugs are finally over. He's overcome by the tight slickness of her and just stills there, eyes closed. He revels in how her muscles contract around him and how her hips impatiently shift beneath him. Her fingers dig into the flesh where his back and buttocks meet and he can't not move. He thrusts over and over and over, and feels that spring coil tighter and tighter. He knows she feels it too by her increased murmurs and the way her hips shift against his more erratically. _So close, so close, so close. _And then it breaks as he feels her muffled gasp against his shoulder. As soon as they each catch their breath, she falls asleep on said shoulder.

But he can't sleep. Too many hormones and endorphins buzzing in this human body that he still can't quite get used to. So, he counts: _upper arm, hairline, foot, knees, elbow, brow, side, shoulder._

/

They lay belly to belly and nose to nose. He pulls her as close as possible with a hand on her bare hip and then leans in for a right proper snog. She hums and places a hand on his one heart.

"You are insatiable," she says.

They've already had one robust shag in the bright morning sun. Not to mention last night.

"Me? What about you?"

He looks indignant for 8.2 seconds, but her face brightens with that tongue-in-cheek smile. He kisses her brow and then notices again the scar there on her hairline. He lets one forefinger brush against it while he studies it, but then her brow furrows as she tries to look up at it.

"How'd this happen?" He asks.

Her hand shoots up to the scar as if to camouflage it. But then she circles her arm around his waist and hides her face in his neck.

"It's stupid, really."

"Oh, I don't that."

He feels her swallow and then the distinct sound of her licking her lips.

"Will you tell me something?" She asks. "Something you're not proud of. Embarrassed by even?"

"Oh, Rose, that's a long list."

"Just one. Please?"

He sighs and filters through all the horrible, vile, cowardly things he's done. He thinks about all the times he ran - from love, responsibility, expectations, while his legs and feet shift restlessly against the sheets.

"I um, well, the last time I ever spoke to my son, I had a son. Two actually and a daughter. We fought. Of course at that time it's what we always did. About the war and how we should or shouldn't be involved. Hours before Gallifrey was destroyed we had the biggest fight ever. He called me a coward. I told him he was too young and blood thirsty to understand. That was the last thing I ever said to him."

He swallows and lets out a shaky breath against her hair. Her arms tighten around him and her lips brush his neck. If only there was such a thing as second chances. Though he supposes he's gotten one - this human life in this body that shouldn't even exist. She shifts then so they are eyes to eye again and then feels her hand on his jaw.

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault."

"You miss them?"

"Oh, yes. I try not to think about it, but sometimes...you know. But you make it better."

She presses a light kiss to his lips and the settles her head down. Her hand slips from his jaw to his collar bone, her thumb swiping back and forth.

"You remember that bloke I left school for?"

"Yes."

"So, I caught him cheating, yeah? And we had this screaming match in his flat. Neighbors were yelling at us, threatening to call the police. It was awful. He got so mad he hit me. Hard. Hard enough to knock me off balance. I spun and fell forward. Hit my head on the corner of this glass coffee table. That's how I got that scar."

He tightens his hand on her and nuzzles her forehead.

"That's for him to be ashamed of. Not you."

"Yeah. Most of me knows that, but all the things I gave up for him. I should have known better."

"We all think that though, don't we? But the truth is we don't know better until we do."

She gives him a crooked smile. Her brow furrows.

"Did you get that from a fortune cookie or something?"

"Malvarian truth nugget actually. Brilliant things and tasty."

She laughs, even though her eyes are watery. Sad for him maybe and for herself. But then she's kissing him and the rest of the morning is lost in tangled sheets and panted breaths.

/

When the Doctor sleeps he dreams of planets bursting and boiling. He dreams of Gallifrey and his children running in fields of purple grass, tumbling onto him. Of abandoned companions and granddaughters banging on the TARDIS door while he sets in coordinates. He dreams of levers slipping and of a blonde girl falling through the void into nothingness.

But then _she's_ there, stroking his side as he wakes too, and nothing matters but right now. Right here. Now when he counts as she sleeps, it's the stories they've told each other and the things he still wants to show her.


	5. Ain't Lost, Just Wandering

Ain't Lost, Just Wandering

**A/N: **Title borrowed from a line in Adele's Hometown Glory. Don't own the Doctor or Rose either.

He lasts a little over year of four walls and carpets and paperwork and a lab that he sees more frequently than she knows he'd like. It's subtle at first. A few wayward experiments with their TV and a small microwave fire. But then he practically stops sleeping and she'll wake up at 2am to find him tinkering around in his shed in the back garden or sitting on the deck just staring up at the stars. He tells her everything is fine, just that he can't settle when he lies down. She tries to push the concern away and thinks maybe its just part of them settling in - of losing that honeymoon phase they've so enjoyed. But then he manages to lock himself in a building with a radioactive alien ready to explode at any minute on a mission that he wasn't even assigned to.

When he actually makes it out alive Rose nearly kills him with plummeting fists before shagging him at a bruising pace. Afterwards, she slides off and away from him. When she feels his fingers on her back she swings out of bed and then to the bathroom, muttering about needing a shower. She turns on the shower and then braces herself against the sink. Tears bubble up out of her throat and she doubles over from the force of her sob. It's an old fight and an even older fear. And she knows he is who he is and how bored he must be trapped on one planet in one time.

_Stuck with you. That's not so bad. _But what if it wasn't enough?

"Rose."

She doesn't hear the door open or his footsteps. She just hears her name rasped behind her and then his hands on her waist. He has her pulled against his chest before she can protest and his lips are on the crown of her head.

"I'm guessing that didn't just count as make-up sex since you're still upset with me."

She laughs and sobs harder against his skin all in the same breath. She feels his hands clutching her back. He plants kisses in her hair and whispers apologies and _I love you's_. She knows he means it. She just isn't sure if he can really follow through. She's so far gone into this one life on the slow path that she's not sure if she'd come back from being left by him _again_. She pulls back to look up at him. He looks near tears himself as his hands move to her cheeks, wiping the wetness there away with his thumbs.

"I'm worried about you. About us," she says.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Yeah, because you can't."

"No," he says, firmly. "I know I've been...off lately. But it's not because I don't want this life with you. The only way I'm leaving is if you want me to."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know. I just feel..restless..."

"Trapped."

He huffs and looks away from her. She knows it's true then, even if he doesn't want to say it. She gets that it's not her, but all the strappings and inconveniences that come with being human. He takes her hands, rubbing them between his, and looks her in the eye again.

"Listen, how about we take some time off. Go travel around this Earth. Just get away for a bit. Just us."

"And go where?"

"Anywhere. We could get a zeppelin and just go where we like. I hear this Rome is quite different from the one on our world. Something to do with divergence of the crown and lack of religious influence. Ooh, or Scotland. I've always liked Scotland. Be nice to see it without a werewolf chasing us."

She laughs a little then and hides her face in his chest. His arms tighten around her shoulders.

"Do you think it'll help?" She asks.

"Suppose it might. Can't hurt."

"Okay."

/

He whines when they actually have to supply flights plans and itinerary to the Commission on Private Airship Travel. But he does it, though she's not certain he'll actually stick to it. She puts in for a month off in the summer and they borrow Pete's zeppelin, which turns into their mobile home for the month.

They go to Rome first. He tugs her around Vatican City where the Pope actually greets people on the streets instead of rolling around in a glass enclosure, with only a few priests accompanying him. She tries not to smile when the Doctor verbally ambushes the poor Pope into talking about the mythologies revolving around Satan, to which the Doctor knows every counter argument. She pulls him away before he can get out the words, _you know I met him once_. But then she's laughing and so is he as they walk hand and hand.

She almost expects to round the corner and shuffle back into the TARDIS to head off to their next adventure and her laughter dies down. But then he's pulling her into an ally and pressing her against the stone wall. His mouth is on hers and her arms twine around his neck in a way that has become second nature. There was never _this_ before and it's so much better than the smell of apple-grass or the fiery sky on Nezbean 7 where she first told him forever. He pulls away for breath and leans his forehead against hers.

"What was that for?" She asks.

He gives a little shrug. His lips show a small smile.

"It's just traveling with you...I love it."

"Me too."

/

After Rome, they hop over to Pompeii, which is actually a thriving little city that seems to have a love-hate relationship with its roman neighbors. They move through the markets buying little trinkets for her mum, dad, and Tony. Then there's Paris and the Louvre. He tells stories about how he met Da Vinci once and helped him configure the aerodynamics of his flying machine. They move on to Amsterdam and Ireland.

The Zeppelin is loaded down with souvenirs and it's no TARDIS, but it's been christened in ways the TARDIS never was. She sees him sleep more peacefully in those weeks than she has in months. Ever since they became intimate, it's been strange watching him be so still with his mouth slightly parted. It's so _human_.

When he wakes he's got his arms around her before his eyes even open. Their day starts by burrowing further under the covers with fondling hands and tongues, instead of bursting out of blue wooden doors. It's really not so bad.

/

The last place he takes her to is Scotland. They spend one evening on a blanket up on a hill, the zeppelin anchored behind them. He spouts off about constellations and the people who named them, while she snuggles into his side. She enjoys how his warmth counters the cool breeze coming up off the cliff and is happy to listen to his simple excitement over the slight variations from this universe to theirs. Her hand plays with his, absently twisting his ring that matches hers.

"It's beautiful out here," she says.

"Yeah," he says.

He sighs then and she can hear the longing. She tries not to take offense. She knows how small all of this must seem to him because it feels that way to her and she only lived his life for a couple years.

"I know you miss it. The TARDIS. Traveling."

"Sure, I do. It's all I knew for so long. I'm just sorry I can't take you out _there_ anymore. There was so much I wanted to show you."

She nuzzles closer to him and his fingers thread through her hair.

"I loved traveling with you. But in some ways this is better, yeah?" She asks.

"Oh, yes."

He turns into her, his front flush against hers. His hand settles in the dip of her waist and his nose brushes her. His eyes darken in that way that makes her thighs brush together and she lets her lips barely touch his.

"No regrets?" She asks.

"With you? Never."

Her mouth is on his and then she feels the slide of his tongue against hers. Her fingers slip down his chest until her hand traces the outline of his cock through his trousers. She feels his moan against her tongue and squeezes him.

"Ready to go back in?" He asks.

"Oh, I don't know. I've been to the stars. Never made love under them before, though."

She knows he's trying not to smile as one corner of his mouth lifts upwards and it may just be the sexiest look he's ever given her. It's an _oh, yes I am clever_ smile and she wants nothing more than to feel him moving over her, in her.

"We might get caught," he says.

He doesn't exactly sound opposed to the idea and the way his fingers are currently inching up the hem of her shirt doesn't suggest otherwise. In fact, she thinks he might be getting off on the idea, even though she's certain no one's around for miles.

"Best put on a good show then."

And they do.


End file.
